


the tragedy of wishes

by Larrant



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Angst, Gen, Millicent-centric, Tragedy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-13
Updated: 2016-12-13
Packaged: 2018-09-08 07:44:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,021
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8836192
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Larrant/pseuds/Larrant
Summary: He never asks her to stay, but there is a plate of food for her every day, water that never runs out.And she owes her life to him, so she stays.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I think this fits into any universe- I didn’t know if the background I was writing in was for star wars canon or for a modern! AU, but I realized that it didn’t matter, I realized that the setting could be anything and anywhere, and it would still be the same.
> 
> So read this in mind with whatever universe you choose to :).

 

 

 

The one who has taken her in is a soft man. He is sharp and clean cut and pretty edges, but he smells of pine and softness, something lingering deep within a forest.

 

He never asks her to stay, but there is a plate of food for her every day, water that never runs out.

 

And she owes her life to him, so she stays.

 

 

* * *

 

 

She lays her claim, while he already has his.

 

She never lets him hold her- she is too proud for that, it is too early for that, but she watches over him, always.

 

He is kind, she sees, he is gentle, his hands are pale and soft and fragile and she would press kisses to them, if she could.

 

At some point, she wonders if she has grown weak, grown soft. She thinks she would do anything for this man. Sometimes, she wonders if she _can_ do anything.

 

 

* * *

 

 

One day, in their home where it is only the two of them, a third person appears.

 

A man swathed in darkness, who opens the door and steps inside.

 

He comes closer, and the stench of it strikes her right in the gut. She skitters back, she hides. The scent of it- of that person- does not abate. A predator’s scent, a cold, awful scent, filled with animal and blood.

 

Danger, she thinks, fear. Disgust. She shudders, and watches him from behind a tall post, her claws sharp and her teeth a shark’s. She would tear into bone and into flesh, if that is what is needed.

 

She is ready for it, her blood pumping, the fear and the excitement bubbling over, her lips pulled back over her teeth.

 

-and then, the moment after that, he appears. Her beautiful, beautiful human, who steps out and she wants to scream at him, tell him to get out, does he not see the danger-

 

But he is laughing, and walking forwards and dragging the other into an embrace.

 

For a moment, watching behind that tall post, she does not understand.

 

(when she understands, it is this: her beautiful, foolish human is being broken by this man, they are being broken by each other- but she only has anything in her heart for her beautiful, tragic human, who laughs as if he is glad to be broken)

 

 

* * *

 

 

She watches them, sometimes, her eyes sharp and wide in the darkness.

 

“She can see us,” he says, his beautiful voice pouring into the silence.

 

“Let her see.”

 

And then they press their bodies together, and the air grows thick with the scent of heavy musk. She looks at them, how they intertwine and their bodies meld together. The groans that fill the air, uncomfortable and unsettling. She moves somewhere else, knowing she has already been forgotten.

 

 

* * *

 

 

One day, the disgusting, filthy man offers her his hand.

 

She only eyes him with mistrust- the scent that clings to his folds of clothing is disgusting, retching. It’s the smell of someone she knows she would always dislike. But. Underneath that, underneath the smell of animal and rotten things, she can taste a hint of pine, a scent of softness.

 

And she knows that scent, so after a moment she cannot do anything but relent.

 

They can get along, if only for that person’s sake.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Their home fills with laughter, with sound, with the sound of two people being together.

 

Sometimes they are only silent together, arms entwined and murmurs soft, playing a game that neither of them realize will only hurt them. Neither of them realize, so they are happy.

 

She knows, but she is different.

 

She watches over him of course, her beautiful, beautiful person. She will not let him be taken over so completely by that hateful man. She knows something will eventually give, she knows that it is better to be alone for in the end nothing lasts- but he does not know this, and so she watches over him.

 

(she owes him her life still, and yet sometimes she wonders if she is all that different from that hateful man she detests)

 

(sometimes she wonders if she is not as foolish as the two who let their lives entwine so easily)

 

But she has to admit, sometimes in the mornings, sometimes when she wakes to sound and gentle words, it is not so bad.

 

 

* * *

 

Something happens, something shifts.

 

She does not know what happens, she does not listen, she does not want to hear.

 

But something happens, and the tall, dark haired one leaves suddenly.

 

The hulking, ugly man looks at her, just once before he goes. The disgusting man looks sad, though he has no right to be, and for a moment something in their eyes connect, and she thinks she might understand him, just a little bit. She has never wanted to, but they are both predators, both with sharp claws and sharp teeth and sharp eyes.

 

It looks like he wants to say something, to her, but then a moment passes, and the man laughs, his eyes crease up (not in the manner of one who wants to laugh), and he says nothing and leaves.

 

She is left in the doorway.

 

 

* * *

 

 

He is always alone nowadays. That disgusting man no longer comes here, and so he sits alone on his bed, his back straight and his eyes staring into nothing.

 

It makes her chest clench.

 

If only, she thinks, she could break that damnable silence, wipe away the single tear that trickles so slow down his pale cheek. He is so beautiful, and that person has made him so broken, made him cry.

 

She aches to hold him, aches to reach out and embrace him, embrace her beautiful human and no longer let him weep.

 

She would hold him if she could, comfort him if she could, she would murmur soft words of nothing into his ears and soothe him into sleep and when he woke up she would still be there. She would always be there.

 

But she has no arms to hold him with, no words to comfort him with, and she is only a cat.

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!


End file.
